


Three Cheers for Five Years

by etcetera_kit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etcetera_kit/pseuds/etcetera_kit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the only thing that makes sense is the one thing that you’ve been avoiding. Dean and Cas are no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Cheers for Five Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lomanegra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lomanegra/gifts).



> Thanks to my wolf pack for alpha and beta reading! Happy holidays, lomanegra! I hope you enjoy!

**Three Cheers for Five Years**

If Sam thought that Dean and Cas sitting on the same bed in the motel room, watching _Love Actually_ , was weird, he didn’t say anything. He also didn’t comment on the popcorn, the fact that Cas’ eyes were red or the recent week-long disappearance of the angel. He just got his laptop charger, said he was going to a diner with free wi-fi, and left.

Which Dean was perfectly fine with—he did not want to explain the situation to Sam, which was mostly about how Cas only freaked out to him. (And after all the garbage with Benny and Amelia and their collective manipulating, they were pretty much barely speaking. In fact, this was the first time since Cas’ decision to stay at the nursing home that all three of them were in the same spot for longer than twenty-four hours.)

And that’s what Cas had been doing—freaking out. About killing angels and not going to Heaven and memory blanks where he lost time but didn’t. Some of the hysterical babbling Dean knew about. Some he suspected Cas invented in his own paranoia. There was really only one course of action when Cas got like this—get him to sit down and breathe. Tears usually followed, and then a slightly rational conversation could be had. _Slightly_ being the key word. Cas made sense only when he wanted and those instances were few and far between.

The moment Sam left—after giving them an epic bitchface—Dean turned back towards Cas and shut off the movie that was making his teeth rot. 

“You feel better now?” he asked.

“No.” Cas sounded ridiculously morose. He turned to Dean—blue eyes sad and defeated. “You are the only person who cares about me.”

Dean snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sam cares. That other angel—“

“Inias.”

“Yeah, Inias. He cares.”

“Dean, why can’t we—“

“No,” Dean interrupted him before he could finish the thought. “That was a bad idea then and it’s not a better idea now. We can’t.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea.”

“It was a supremely bad idea.”

“No.”

And this was where they always disagreed. Christ, nearly five years ago now, when they’d been stopping the goddamn Apocalypse, and Cas had fallen to basically human, Dean had been depressed enough and suicidal enough to think having sex with Cas would be a good idea. He’d been coming from a place of pure physical need to be close to someone. Cas, who would probably do anything for Dean, had gone along with the sex, not caring that Dean was rough or hurt him, believing the whole time that Dean did what he did because of love and not desperation.

After a year of living with Lisa and Ben and seeing what a normal, functional family looked like, he couldn’t start that part of his relationship with Cas again. Sure, he wanted the angel around and he wanted answers, but as a friend or a brother. Not as a lover. After all the things they’d done to each other, how could two creatures so broken love or find peace?

Here Cas was, out of Purgatory and still a fully-charged angel, but so afraid to return home, so afraid of what he’d done. Dean could relate. The first few months after coming back from Hell, Dean felt like he didn’t deserve anything good. He knew now that was why Cas decided to remain in Purgatory, because he felt like he needed to be punished. But Cas was out and having weird memory glitches and Dean had never felt so helpless.

Dean just wrapped an arm around Cas and pulled him close, tucking him to his side. Cas went willingly and easily. “Talk to me,” Dean muttered into his hair. “What do you think the memory things mean?”

“I don’t know,” Cas replied, voice muffled into his shirt. “I was talking to you and Sam about returning to Heaven to get answers. One moment I was preparing to say my goodbyes to you, and then next was like I had completely changed my mind and resolved to stay on Earth.” He paused. “I do not understand what this means.”

“Could someone in Heaven be yanking your chain?”

“It is possible, but there are not many still alive that are powerful enough to do so.” Cas paused again, before adding, “Why would they want me? I’m of no use.”

Dean snorted. “I think you are. I mean, come on, you thought for yourself. You still think for yourself. That’s got to still piss someone off.”

“I am afraid.”

“I know.”

“I do not want to be someone else’s hammer.”

“Yeah, that sucks.” Dean thought for a moment. He had no idea why someone would have gotten Cas out of Purgatory—near as he could he tell, most angels would have been just as happy to leave him there. The question was why and if Cas did not remember or didn’t know why, then they had reached what could be dangerous territory. As with Cas’ breakdowns, Dean realized that, again, he really only had one thing to do.

“Maybe you should stick around,” Dean suggested, running one hand through Cas’ hair in a gesture that was supposed to be comforting, but, from Cas’ shudder, came across as very sensual.

“You don’t want me here.”

“Did I complain when you were hanging around and decided to become a hunter a fucking week ago?”

“No.”

“Then how did you come to that conclusion?”

“You don’t want to have sex with me.”

Okay. That was interesting. “You think the fact that I don’t want to have sex with you means that I don’t want you around?” He sighed. “Cas, humans are a little more complicated than that.”

He really hadn’t been expecting Cas to keep circling the conversation around to the sex, or lack thereof. Hell, every time they’d had this conversation in the limited amount of time they’d had together in the past few years, Dean had successfully managed to steer Cas to something else. End of the world, war, leviathans, Purgatory… anything. And Cas picked now to be the proverbial dog with a bone?

He took a deep breath. “I love you, but we’re the worst for each other.”

“Worst?” Cas pulled away from him, eyes wide and questioning. “I love you. From all I’ve seen of humans, love is not a bad thing.”

“Come on, Cas. I was the reason you fell. You died twice for me. You made a deal with Crowley to keep me out of the life. You released leviathans. I spent months beating myself up because I thought I left you behind in Purgatory. We’re a mess.”

“No.” Cas sat up, one hand going to Dean’s cheek. “No. Your soul was beautiful. Even in the stench and filth of Hell, your soul shone brightly, and with so much purity. Esther said I was gone from the moment I raised you from perdition. She was wrong—I’ve loved you from the moment that I laid eyes on your soul in Hell.”

“Cas… what are we going to do?”

“Can I stay with you?”

“Have I ever told you no before?”

“Yes.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m not now. Yes, you can stay.”

Cas leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Dean would have liked to say that he didn’t expect the soft, chaste kiss, but he’d be lying. Cas hung on to the kiss for longer than necessary, obviously waiting to see if Dean would respond. When he didn’t, the angel pulled back, obviously disappointed.

This happened all the time—Cas would try to initiate something. Dean wanted to respond, he really did. He wanted to thread his fingers through that dark hair and ravish that beautiful mouth. Make Cas’ lips get all red and kiss-swollen, and make him moan deep in the back of his throat. Cas had no angel mojo back when they were having sex, so they’d have to remove all their clothes themselves, Dean taking his time, lips exploring each new exposed area. Cas would come undone under his touch. And, honestly, they hadn’t taken their time enough. Too many times, he’d practically ripped Cas out of his clothes and taken him with as little prep as possible.

Cas sighed.

“Cas, you don’t want me to do that to you.”

“Don’t tell me what I want.”

Cas just sat up a little more and swung one leg over Dean’s hips, effectively straddling his lap. He was so close that Dean could feel his breath, see the ancient depths of his eyes. Cas lowered himself just a little—neither of them were hard, not yet.

Dean could feel his resolve breaking.

“Please, Dean.” Cas’ voice was soft and needy and wrecked. “I’m so tired of being alone.”

“What about Daphne or Meg?” He didn’t even know where the question came from.

“They’re not you.”

Things really were simple with Cas.

“Cas, come on, we don’t—“

“Don’t tell me what I want!” Cas’ voice turned louder as he practically growled out the words. He ground his hips against Dean’s. He could feel the growing hardness and felt himself responding, almost against his will. “Dean,” Cas continued, sagging against him, voice lower, soft again. “I don’t know anymore. I haven’t for a long time. But being with you, that feels right. I just want something that I can trust.”

“Okay,” Dean replied, running his hands through Cas’ hair. “Okay.”

A few hours later, Dean was glad that Sam decided to stay out—wherever—all night. Cas was still naked and in bed with him, the room smelling like sweat and sex—real. Something he hadn’t felt since getting back from Purgatory. Cas wasn’t sleeping, just curled against his side, eyes open and distant, like he was lost in thought.

Maybe Cas was right. Maybe _this_ was the only thing that was real and made sense. Nothing had ever been certain. Maybe this could be.

_I thought we could wait for the fireworks,_  
And I thought we could wait for the snow,  
To wash over Georgia and cover us.  
I thought I could live in your arms. 


End file.
